I AM a fortunate son, (and proud of it)

Back to my regularly scheduled blogging.  Yesterday morning was a big day for me.  We fly our flag every day outside of my house.  Not just on holidays, not just when everyone else does.  Every day.  Now occasionally my flag display might have a southern twist to it (no I don't fly the traditional Confederate flag) but sometimes I put appropriate flags on historical dates.  Most people who drive by would not have any idea what the additional flag is.  Anyway, I am very proud of the flag that I fly.  My father in law once replaced the whole set for me while I was gone on a work trip because he knew how much it meant to me to have a good looking flag out front.  Due to the weather and wind recently my flag got all torn up.  I imagine it looked a little bit like the The Great Garrison Flag that flew over Fort McHenry.  In fact I have seen that flag in DC....it did look like it.

So yesterday I made a big deal about the proper way to get a new flag.  The girls wanted to know why we didn't just throw it away, I told them because it "isn't trash, in every sense of the word." I went on to explain to the girls about how the flag must not touch the ground.  I gave Reagan one end of the flag and told her to hold it tight.  I then proceeded to fold it, explaining how each fold actually meant something.  I then folded the end in, talking about how it is supposed to remind people of the hats worn by the Colonial Army, specifically George Washington (they had heard of him at school).

I then made a big production about how we were going to take the flag to some Army men and they were going to do a big ceremony and properly destroy the flag.  After a longer than anticipated stop to Wal Mart to purchase a new flag, we drove across town to the VFW.  It gave us a chance to talk about the big ceremony and why it was so important.  I talked about how many men and women died to protect the flag and how their Great Grandpa and Aunt Sarah served for that flag.  Part of me smiled as I thought about those family members of theirs who once fought against this flag, but that is another lesson for another day.  There wasn't much other talk in the car, I got the sense the girls really knew something big was going to happen.  When we got to the VFW, I noticed each window in the front of the building had been broken on purpose.  I went inside and it looked just like you would think. A few bikers around a bar and they all sort of turned and looked at me at the same time.  I told them I was sorry about their windows and that I just wanted to make a big deal about the proper way to take care of a torn flag for my daughters out in the truck.  One of the guys came up to me and said that they just destroyed some that morning but will take care of it next time.  He then reached out his hand to shake mine and said "thank you buddy."  I said..."No thank you."

I then went outside and put the flag in the box where they belong.  Caroline wanted to know why I put the flag in the mailbox (because it looks just like a mailbox) which was a good question on her part.  I told her that is the special place where they go and the Army men inside would take care of it.  She said yeah, "with their special ceremony."

On the way home the song "Fortunate Son," came on my ipod.  I like the song but generally disagree with the song.  For the time and place the song came out, I am sure it had some very accurate meaning but not now, not in my house.  I was born to raise the flag and my girls will have Star Spangled Eyes.  I didn't have a silver spoon in my mouth but didn't need either.  While I never served, it doesn't mean I don't hold those that do/did in the highest regard. Nor do I want to go around fighting needless wars because I can be in favor of such, safely from my family room couch.

As a parent you are never sure what lessons will stick with your kids.  I am pretty sure Baylor Grace just enjoyed the truck ride with her Daddy (which is in itself a lesson) but I am hopeful that the actual lesson I tried to teach will stick with the big girls.  Reagan is right "Yea Army Men!"